Hour Eleven
by Mystic25
Summary: Hermione and Harry's goodbye in "Deathly Hallows Part 2" SPOLIERS, Obviously, from the said movie.


"Hour Eleven"

Mystic25

Summary: Hermione and Harry's goodbye in "Deathly Hallows Part 2" SPOLIERS, Obviously, from the said movie.

RATING: T for some imagery of violence, and a small amount of minor language.

A/N: I was very happy with "Deathly Hallows Part 2." It was such a _stellar_ movie, the acting, the pace. Well, the epilogue to me, didn't suit, but I never liked the epilogue anyway. But, the battle, was very believably sad, and real. So is this scene with Hermione and Harry. I was like "oh my"

DISCLAIMER: The wonderful world of Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling and Warner Brothers. Thank you, for 10 years of something to look forward to.

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"_Oh Earth, you're too wonderful for anybody to realize you."_

~Oscar Wilde "Our Town"

"_It feels like this…"_

~"Harry Potter" "Half Blood Prince" (Movie)

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><p>"What is it Harry?" Hermione's heartbeat was stronger than her voice. It slammed against her ribs, breaking things inside. Not bone, but something far more important, turning that something to fragments. She stared back at Harry, his figure turned away from her, staring out into the Forbidden Forest. She couldn't see his face, but yet, at the same time – she almost could. Because, she had known him for so long. "What is it that you know?"<p>

He turned around to face her, and then, she didn't _want_ to see his face. Because, there was something – _breaking_ in his eyes, something inside _him_ that was shattering with desolate '_pings'_ from within.

"There's a reason I can hear them." Harry said this as he looked from Hermione, to Ron in a sweeping, look. These two best friends who stood amidst the smoldering rubble of where they had begun. The angry sounds of fighting tore through the air, ending with the screams of other friends – all dying. "I think I've known for a while." He smells the acrid stench of ash, and blood, it coats the air like sickening perfume, it burns his eyes.

Eyes that find Hermione, who has taken just the tiniest step nearer to him. "And I think you have too." It isn't just the smoke and the stench of destruction that burns his eyes anymore. It's the heaviness of tears from something that burns, not from the outside but from _inside__ – _that puddles, that clings to his lashes. And, he doesn't dare blink as green eyes found brown; doesn't dare blink, or they would fall.

Hermione hears all her thoughts screaming at her; such angry, _rational_ words. Words that want to tear at Harry with all the sense she posses. But, she hears another sound above all the screaming, a desperate, low keening that overpowers all others, an aching: _'No No No- Harry no-'_

Hermione doesn't_ want _to be rational, she _can't_ be, all she can do is _feel _it. Because, with that one look, she knows what he is going to do. She knows, her friend of 7 years –

He was going to hurt, so that others didn't have to.

"_I'll go with you!" _she blurts this out with such a sad insistence, her voice finally overpowering her ramming heartbeat. Her shoulders are shaking with choking, because _this_ hurt – so much.

Harry looks at her with eyes that were aching, and _tired. _But, he tried to blink them away behind a mask of stoic indifference, trying to hide behind the strength he hoped such a mask was granting him. He was trying so hard to be brave. "No, kill the snake. Kill the snake and it's just him." His voice shook, the tiniest of noises, but still there. The smallest shake of something strong, that echoed such a haunting sadness because it had escaped out into the air despite everything used to hold it back.

Harry could not stop this. He had to go. But, not because it was his destiny. This had gone so far _beyond_ destiny. He didn't _care _about destiny. Destiny was large, and looming, and nameless – Fred, George, Ginny, Luna, Ron – Hermione, they were _named_. _They _were what he was doing this for.

If this – pain, suffering, dying, crying – if _this_ ended, then they didn't have too. They would go on, they would exist.

He didn't _want_ to – going out for this, it wasn't 'noble' or 'just' to him. But, there had to be something _left_.

It was _right_.

But, it was lonely.

So lonely.

He came into this world from the broken down ramshackle of a home, came into it lonely. He would have to leave it lonely. He _had_ too.

In the end, it had to be him, _only_ him.

Even if he didn't want to at all. But, it was for those named ones, those ones whose voices he would always hear, would always be there, even in the still quiet. For her-

Because she stood there right now, crying, fighting down sobs, for him. Because, she ran to him and threw her arms around him. Because she pressed herself so _hard_ against him; because she couldn't fight them anymore after mere seconds of trying.

He had to do this.

Even if he would miss her.

God, Merlin, _Everything_, how he would miss her.

He breathed her in, she smelled of vanilla perfume, and dried blood, and flowers, and sooty ash; she smelled of life. She felt so warm, and soft, and strong in his arms, wet with tears, and beautiful - so, so beautiful.

He wanted to whisper this into her hair, like a secret, something for her to keep. But, he could only hold her, his dear friend, his most wondrous love.

This was the kind of moment that dropped you, that knocked you sideways, that left you there broken, and shattered, and lost –

Why was he doing this? Why couldn't he remember why he was doing this? And, why, did that hurt so much?

Hermione knew Ron was right behind her; watching her. And, she didn't deny his existence in the world, or in _her_ world. But, all that existed to her in that moment – was Harry.

And, Ron knew that too, because he remained. Just as broken, and sad as she, but letting her have her moment. Understanding, what she and Harry meant to each other too.

She heard Harry's heart beating against her own, so hard, so fast – Harry James Potter. Labeled as the "Boy Who Lived," the "Chosen One." But, whom she only ever labeled as: "Harry" or "my friend."

He made up so much of her life, this man who sprang from a shy, timid boy met so long ago on a train. She would never love anyone as she loved him – he was so, strong, and brave, and kind. He was a _part of_ her.

And, she didn't want to release him – not there – Not even if the world would end if she didn't let him go–

Because, she didn't want him to die alone.

He was her friend, her love. She didn't want him to die at all – She squeezed him tighter, her tears falling hot and scalding into his neck. She wanted to kiss him, but she could only hold him, choking. Feeling him hold her back just as tightly.

He was so warm, so _real_ against her. She didn't want just a memory of Harry, she wanted _everything_ else –

Oh God, no _please__!__- _she could not do this –

She choked on a sob, holding him, still holding him, her fingers pressed so deeply into his back, face pressed into his shoulder.

He pulled away, she could feel it, like the release of a blanket on a winter night, suddenly slamming all the cold air, leaving her freezing.

Looking at him was painful, because, what was going to happen when – how do you let go of a part of your life? How do you just _stand_ there and let it walk way to face agony?

She took Ron's hand for something solid to steady her, and felt him squeeze it back tightly. She watched Harry turn towards the forest again, watched him cast one last look at Hogwarts, then at her, then at Ron, saying his goodbyes to old dear friends, when he didn't want to say goodbye at all, when all he wanted was to stay.

Harry took in the deep, deep brown of Hermione's eyes, her eyes, that if he did what was _right_, he would never ever see again.

He didn't want to do this, He didn't want to die. She was _here. _She would be here when he walked away from it, she would _live._ And, he felt something so sad and tearing break into him - he didn't want to leave, he wanted to live too.

He wanted to live, because it was what he was meant to do. He wanted to live with all of them, with her.

She was everything good mixed with everything good in the world, the bloody, flawed, messy, and beautiful world.

He wanted to kiss her, to take even the tiniest piece of _her_ with him into the dark, looming Forest where he would face his end by someone who hated him merely because he was _alive. _

But, he watched her instead, feeling bravery settle like a scab over something still bleeding at the edges, something that he didn't even know what it was - until he found her eyes again.

The feeling when he looked at her - _That's_ what it was, that's why this hurt so bloody much.

He had to defeat Voldemort. Not out of duty, or a destiny he never wanted in the first place. But, because he had seen too many stupid, silly, crazy and _wonderful_ things in the world to let him have reign over it.

It scared him, he couldn't lie, not here on his Eleventh Hour, say that he wasn't afraid to face such an evil. But, it wasn'tin the going there and the leaving that scared him the most; it was in the what he was _leaving behind. _

It was in standing by himself when he had found _something_.

She watched him look at her one last time then to her, with the deepest, the saddest, most beautiful of looks. Through tears swirling around her eyes, then streaking down her face. And, she responded to the words his eyes had conveyed:

_You're not alone Harry– I love you too__._

As long as she loved him, he would never be alone, even if she felt that theory tested and stretched, and breaking as she watched him walk away, down the crumbling castle, towards the Forbidden Forest, towards the darkness there, doing everything she could think of to ease such blinding agony _except_ what she wanted to do.

Run after him and go with him. To not let it be only him, when it was all gone.

_I__loveyouIloveyouIloveyou._

She clung harder to Ron, the Two that was once Three.

She kept her head up, watching until Harry was no longer there, until the trees took him. Even when standing still, going with him.

Her dear, wonderful friend.

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><p>End.<p>

Okay, anyone need a tissue? Cause I sorta did… I say, if I make myself cry, then I wrote _something_. Seeing that scene in the movie, it was so sweet and sad. All I could think of after hearing Hermione's heartfelt proclamation is how, _much_ she loves him, because she didn't want to let him die all alone.

I didn't have Ron in this as anymore than just a presence, I know, I'm sorry. But, when I originally tried, it came out more of a _pandering _moment for Ron, and it would've insulted him, as well as broken up the mood of where the story was going. Hermione hugs people, a lot, but, Ron, standing there, being sad, crying without a sound, it was his way to say goodbye to his best mate.

R/R please.

Peace

Mystic


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